


Thrall

by Doctor_Discord



Series: Commissions [5]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Blood, Blood and Violence, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Murder, Starvation, Wraith, Wraith Feeding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:40:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24095977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Discord/pseuds/Doctor_Discord
Summary: Xanthias goes hungry for a little too long and explodes across the city.
Relationships: Darkiplier/oc
Series: Commissions [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1662136
Comments: 8
Kudos: 20





	Thrall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Xanthias_Reavik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xanthias_Reavik/gifts).



> Some background for this one:  
> This was commissioned by one of my lovely rp partners on Tumblr, Xanthias is their baby, and I play this version of Dark.

Xanthias was _hungry_.

He stared and picked at the plate of _human_ food in front of him, mouth open, trying not to noticeably drool. He was trying _so hard_ not to look at Dark – who was sitting cross-legged on the kitchen island, Baby (his little Yorkie puppy) in his lap, and alternating between rambling about some of the antics Celine, Damien, Mark, and Wil used to get up to as kids, eating his own food, and feeding Baby scraps from his plate. Xanthias was _incredibly_ aware of Dark’s _two_ souls in this moment, and it only made him squirm with his hunger. Hurting Dark was the _last_ thing he wanted. He’d _never_ forgive himself if he did.

They’d hit a bit of a… _dry spell_ , when it came to the adrenaline junkies and paranormal lovers that were drawn to the stories of the manor. Dark had simply shrugged it off with a comment that this had happened in the past, that it’d take a while for all the recent disappearances and absolute _massacre_ of an entire police squad to fade into the background of forgotten memory. Xanthias didn’t think he could wait any longer. He’d tried to leave, to hunt for himself, but _every time_ without fail _something_ cropped up, usually in the form of Dark being his clingy self or him trying to do something he just physically _couldn’t_ and hurting himself. There was never any intent, Xanthias knew that. It was always an accident. Dark just – _needed_ him.

But he was _starving_.

Cautiously, Xanthias glanced briefly in Dark’s direction. He looked sufficiently distracted, cooing at Baby, petting her, as she panted and wagged her little tail happily. Dark would almost immediately notice he was gone. He knew how worried Dark would be if he up and disappeared, and guilt pricked at his heart. Hunger quickly overrode it. Samuel was here. He could take care of Dark.

With that, Xanthias warped away, to the middle of the city.

The sky was golden with the setting sun, the air getting cold. And yet, the city was still bustling with people, talking and laughing and heading home for the day. Oblivious to the wraith god lurking in the shadows of an alley, his body flickering between his mostly-human disguise and his true form. His wings slowly unfurled behind him, his four tendrils with their drooling mouths materializing around him as waited, biding his time for the perfect prey.

His eyes locked on a young woman, his eyes flicked to pure _black_ , and he _pounced_.

He _flew_ from the alley, tackling the woman to the sidewalk with a violent _hiss_ before sinking his fangs into her throat. She thrashed under him, but between his own strength and his tendrils, she could do little against him. He _ripped_ her soul free of her body, devouring it in _seconds_ , as his tendrils worked to consume the rest of her. People were screaming around him, his ears twitching with the sound, but he didn’t _care_. A _feeding frenzy_ , a _thrall_ was taking firm hold of his mind, and all he cared about was _blood_ and _souls_.

It didn’t take long before the woman was reduced to nothing but a bloodstain on the sidewalk.

Xanthias stood over the stain, tendrils thrashing about him, panting, wings spread. The pandemonium was causing a _crowd_ of panicked people not knowing which way to run. Like sardines being packed into a fishing net. Xanthias licked his lips, and _launched_ himself back into the crowd, latching himself onto another poor, unfortunate human, sinking his fangs into their flesh, and _devouring_ them rapidly.

Then another.

Then another.

_Then another._

Xanthias was growing sloppy with his frenzy, tearing out the throats of one human, _wasting_ their blood, before latching onto the next. He was painting the streets with a _bloodbath_ , tearing through the city, _desperate_ to satiate his hunger. He was – for lack of a better word – _feral_ with his need, leaving soulless husks of corpses to bleed out in his wake. Distantly, in the very back of his mind, he was aware he needed to _stop_ , to _slow down_ , before he consumed every soul in the city and left it to crumble. But he ignored the nagging voice, dismissed it entirely as he demolished the terrified, poorly equipped, _entirely_ outmatched police force that was sent to stop him. Blood and gore covered his body, countless souls fueling his strength, fueling his frenzy, he _couldn’t_ be _stopped_ –

“ _Xanthias!_ ”

 _That_ had him _freezing in his tracks_ and _whipping_ around, spitting blood and hissing through his fangs. That is, until, he _registered_ who was storming toward him. _Dark_ , with his perfect suit, his aura spread behind him in some dark, twisted version of holy light. His black eyes narrowed to near _slits_ as he surveyed the sheer amount of _carnage_ Xanthias had caused. He looked pissed. He looked _very_ pissed, but soon, Xanthias’ recognition faded, and all he could see were the _souls_ that filled Dark’s body.

So he _attacked_.

Dark let out a surprised noise, catching Xanthias midair and holding him away as he flailed in his grasp, wings flapping wildly. His tendrils lashed out, but Dark simply caught them with his own aura, stumbling back a couple steps. More of his aura flooded forth, pinning Xanthias’ tendrils to his back, his arms to his sides, his legs together. It completely cocooned Xanthias, save for his head, exerting a slight, comfortable pressure, warm, like a weighted blanket. Then, Dark promptly tosses Xanthias over his shoulder, and starts stalking out of the bloodstained city.

Xanthias _thrashed_ on his shoulder, hissing and spitting near-incomprehensible insults and demands in his wraithik language, trying to get himself _free_. Dark paid this no mind, just raised an eyebrow and made an unimpressed humming sound as he cleaned up Xanthias’ mess as he went. His aura _flooded_ the streets, following Xanthias’ bloodbath and collecting the dozens of bodies into its grasp, leaving just the bloodstains behind. By the time the city had been cleaned, Xanthias was mostly calm, limp in Dark’s grasp, and staring at the vague outlines of the of the bodies within Dark’s aura.

Dark said nothing as he vanished back to the manor, dumping the bodies in the library to be consumed in his aura as he himself appeared with Xanthias in the master bathroom attached to his bedroom. With a snap of his fingers, Xanthias was stripped of his clothes, and Dark set him down gently in the bathtub, and began to run a warm bath. As the tub filled up and the water began to turn pink with the blood misting off Xanthias’ body, Dark pulled off his suit jacket and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows, kneeling beside the tub. With another wave of his hand, a black bath bomb appeared in the water, hissing softly as it dissolved and turning the water black with silver, purple, and blue glitter.

Dark sighed, summoned a washcloth, and gently began to clean Xanthias’ body of the blood and gore. They were both silent for a long moment, tension brewing thick, as Xanthias quietly let his tendrils and wings withdraw and his true form fade. Dark gently touch the washcloth to Xanthias’ cheek, movements hesitating for a moment, before he spoke. “So. Were you ever going to tell me how hungry you were? Or were you planning on exploding across the city?”

Xanthias shrunk into the water. “Um – I just – I didn’t – want…to worry you…”

Dark snorted, lowering the washcloth to stare incredulously at Xanthias. “ _Worry_ me?! Did you not think that disappearing without a word would _worry_ me? That the bloodbath I found in the city when I went looking for you would _worry_ me?” He lifted the washcloth again, cleaning the blood from Xanthias’ forehead, before pressing a kiss there. “I will _always_ worry about you, dear. I _love_ you. And next time, instead of hiding it, I’d rather you _tell_ me that you’re hungry so a quarter of the city isn’t slaughtered again.”

Xanthias managed a weak laugh, idly batting at the mostly dissolved bath bomb. “…Okay. Okay.” He batted at the bomb again, and narrowed his eyes, hissing softly. “…Was the glitter necessary?”

Dark laughed, pressing another kiss to Xanthias’ hair. “Of course it was. What use is a bath bomb if it _doesn’t_ have glitter.”

“Wow you are _really_ gay.”

At that, Dark promptly burst into laughter, dropping his forehead to rest on his arm – the only thing between him and the edge of the bathtub. His laughter slowly brought Xanthias to giggles. A little spitefully, he splashed some of the glittery water in Dark’s direction, coating his hair, and Dark shot upright, a mock indignant expression on his face. He summoned a plastic cup, filled it with water, and used his aura to hold the suddenly, squirming, squealing Xanthias still as he dumped its contents over his head, soaking him thoroughly.

Dark chuckled as Xanthias’ expression dropped to a pout, combing his fingers through his hair, and pecking his lips. “I love you, dear!”

Xanthias flushed, glancing at Dark before crossing his arms. “…I love you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I _really_ did enjoy this commission, and I hope you guys enjoyed it, too!
> 
> Tumblr: doctordiscord123.tumblr.com


End file.
